Violet
by Alistair Ulven
Summary: Regrets left unspoken -a Loki drabble.


Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot c:

Takes place before Avengers, and after Thor. Hope you enjoy!

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The fabric of her dress swished softly as she bent, pale fingers plucking a vibrant purple flower from a bush -a violet. Droplets of dew settled on the soft petals, the moisture trailing down the stem, dripping onto her skin, cool and refreshing. Fingers curling around the green stem, she let her eyes take in the dark of the night, gloom setting over the greenery of the gardens, but not without a sense of peace. She took in a slow, deep breath, enjoying the rush of cool air that entered her body, and let go of the flower, setting it fall onto the wet grass, where it lay, stark violet against the green. The air was cold -the kind of cold that burned your lungs when you breathed it in, but still left you feeling warm afterwards. It was addictive, she noted, inhaling the smell of dew, mixed with the lingering scent of the perfume she'd dabbed on earlier that night.

Thick smog twisted around in the air, and tree branches swayed softly in the breeze, slightly obscured by tendrils of mist. The palace gardens were empty save for her, something she'd made peace with a few months back -when she started to get used to her being alone in her endeavors here. It was her personal sanctuary now -something about being here in the night made her feel strangely safe. It was her escape from the suffocating extravagance inside the palace walls, and perhaps most importantly, it's inhabitants. Or more specifically, someone that that no longer resided in the palace.

She let her eyes drift back to the palace, which stood out grand and gleaming in the night, the lights inside so bright she could see them through the mist. The faint sound of music and drunken laughter reached her ears -the guests must be enjoying themselves.

Her lips curled in slight resignation as she leant down, the folds of her dress creasing badly when she sat back against the wet ground, the edges of dark red skirts fluttering softly in the mind as she played with the strands of grass growing around her.

She hated these banquets. They were held almost every other week -grand functions, with plenty of wine and food for everyone, and 'good' music. Sometimes she wondered how Thor could even take it -entertaining masses after masses everyday in his home. She couldn't stand to be even near the palace. Not when he was not with them.

It had been quite a while since Thor had told her about Loki falling into the abyss. At first, he'd tried to keep it from her, but then again, the Thunder God had never been one at keeping secrets; she had it out of him immediately. She remembered Thor's face -twisted with anger, and anguish, as he'd told her how Loki had let go of his hand, and fallen into the dark chasm left by the Bifrost. She remembered like it was yesterday that Thor had thought up ways to get him back, all the others knowing that he could not, but lacking the heart to tell him.

Letting a small sigh escape her lips, she spotted the violet she'd dropped earlier, and held it between her small fingers, stroking the petals. This garden, all of it, had been his -Loki's. While he was not one for caring for it, she often found him stretched out on a bench, nose buried in a book when she went out for her morning walks. Thinking back to the first time she'd dared to approach him, she remembered being too intimidated to speak one word to him.

She couldn't help the small smile that creeped its way over her lips as she thought back to the day when she'd actually sat down next to him on his bench. He'd barely paid her any attention, except to pointedly raise a dark eyebrow. When she'd not said anything, he'd merely gone back to reading his book, paying her no mind. They'd sat there, not uttering a single word to each other, until Loki snapped his book shut abruptly, and marched back to the palace, not even bothering to throw a backward glance her way.

This same routine went on for days, with no conversation between the two of them. She noticed things about him, though. Little subtleties, but discoveries nonetheless; like the fact that he always seemed to be in a mood, and that he so rarely smiled, and even when he did, it was brief. She noticed he always wore black and green leather, but always in different ways, and how he always sat with his knees part. However -and it still managed to captivate her- her most important observations had been his eyes. They were so blue, and always glossy, as if he was about to cry at any time. They spoke volumes, those blue eyes of Loki. His eyes were true, even when his words were not there. She recalled the first time he'd actually made eye contact with her, all she had been able to think of was why he looked so sad.

And right now, sitting in his garden under the star-littered black skies, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep the moisture from escaping her eyes. They'd never spoken, not one word. He had only ever looked at her once or twice, her being this upset was ridiculous. But he was dead. Dead, and gone. And in all the time she'd spent with him, she'd never even told him her name.

The violet was back in her hands, and she pulled a petal off, tearing it into tiny strips. She wouldn't go as far as to say she loved him. She didn't. All she wanted was to talk to him -no, all she wanted was for him to open up to her, to know why he seemed so defeated all the time. But now he was gone, and all she had was this big garden where flowers bloomed, and birds sang. This garden where lovers met, and children played. This garden where laughter rang out, and tears soaked into the earth below.

This garden where she'd met the man with the saddest eyes she'd ever seen.

Lifting herself up off the ground, she dusted off her skirts, which were damp from the dew on the grass. The stem of the violet clamped between her index and thumb, she walked towards their bench. The stone -which she knew would be grey if she could see it properly through the darkness- was cold and smooth to the touch. Running a finger over the hard surface, she placed the violet down on it, a small smile lingering on her lips as she spoke her first, and last words to him.

"I suppose I never did get to ask you what you were reading."

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What can I say, I was in the mood for Loki. The girl is an OC, if you're wondering. I hope you liked it c:


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